QF
by Somebody's Dark Angel
Summary: It had been Buffer's idea for the drinking contest; the last 'test' before Nav would be officially inducted into the boys club.


**QF**

**By Somebody's Angel**

"What th' hell are those?" Buffer exclaimed when Nav set the tray down on the table.

"Shots," Nav replied simply, passing out the layered glasses.

"_Girly_ shots," he clarified, pushing his shot back towards her gently, so as not to spill the contents.

Nav rolled her eyes. "There's no such thing as a girly shot. I refuse to drink any more tequila, so we're going to continue this competition with these." Placing a finger on the rim of the glass, she thrust it back at him.

"Whass in 'em?" ET asked, his brilliant blue eyes tinted green as he peered through the glass.

"Kahlua, Midori and Baileys." Nav pointed to each layer in turn. "Now, when you do the shot the idea is to have the Baileys go down last."

The boys stared at her, eyes half-glazed from the enormous quantities of alcohol they had consumed in the past few hours. It had been Buffer's idea for the drinking contest; the last 'test' before Nav would be officially inducted into the boys club. He and Swain were still somewhat unsure about this little firecracker who had so easily assimilated herself into the group over the month since she had been posted to the Hammersley. First, and foremost, she was a woman, and while neither of them could be classified as sexist, they weren't entirely comfortable serving with a female, let alone allowing her to join them on shore. Secondly, she was an officer – younger than them all, and yet she could technically order them around. Yes, the captain occasionally joined them for a few drinks, but this was different, this wasn't just at the pub, it was at the footy and at the park and everywhere else they congregated whilst ashore.

It wasn't that she was overbearingly in their face – quite the opposite in fact, often turning down invitations extended by ET, Charge and Chefo – however the boys, ET in particular, were determined to spend as much time out of the whites as possible with her.

"How 'sactly do you get the top layer outta the way?" Swain asked, leaning down to scrutinise his shot, as if it would provide the answer.

If they hadn't been so inebriated, the boys would have interpreted Nav's smirk for what it was – an evil, knowing grin – however all they saw was the young female smiling at the antics of her co-workers. "You've got to shoot it really fast. _And_," she paused dramatically, enjoying the moment of having all the attention on herself, "If you don't do it right, you've got to shoot another." Unlike the boys, Nav became more articulate the more she drank.

At the mention of more alcohol all protests were instantly stifled, and everyone followed Nav's example in raising their glasses. Despite the spillage that occurred when the unsteady hands tried to clink the glasses together, it was tradition, and thus they all reached across the table. Charge almost dropped his glass, but the rest of the group helped him regain control of it before the contents spilled.

Chefo's empty glass was the first to hit the table – unfortunately he had forgotten to turn it back over, and thus remnants of alcohol dribbled down onto the wood. He lifted the glass up and swiped at the liquid, though he wasn't quite drunk enough to taste it, merely wiping the moisture off on his jeans.

"Damn, those ain't haff bad!" Charge roared, his volume having escalated with every shot.

"Whatsit called?" Swain wobbled dangerously in his seat as he whipped around to look at Nav sitting beside him.

Face completely straight but eyes shining with amusement, Nav locked eyes with ET across the table, "It's called a Quick Fuck. Because if you play the game it's really easy to get fucked up quickly." She raised her eyebrows at ET, and he swallowed thickly.

Only Buffer noticed the flirtatious gesture, the others were falling all over themselves laughing at her answer. Swain's precarious balance failed him, and he slid to the ground, continuing to chuckle even as he sat at Nav's feet.

Burping loudly, Nav broke the gaze with ET, and then grinned wickedly.

This was exactly why Nav had merged into the group so seamlessly – despite her physical characteristics she didn't act much like a girl, and had no issue with swearing like the sailor she was, or acknowledging bodily functions. She drank beer, even if it was from a bottle, and always took her turn to shout, sometimes surprising them with the addition of a round of shots to go with the beer. She was also scarily knowledgeable about sports, able to not only participate in discussions, but also win just about every argument no matter the sport.

……………………

An hour later Swain and Chefo had both dropped out of the competition and taken their leave. Those remaining were now playing pool and, though the alcohol had initially improved their accuracy, the sheer amount they had consumed was starting to inhibit their skills. Charge had been lining up his shot for almost three full minutes, despite it being a fairly simple one.

"S'metime today!" Buffer exclaimed, causing Charge to stand up and swing around, almost sending Nav flying as the pool cue missed her by millimetres.

"Gotta line up again now." Charge scowled at his friend and turned back to the game. While he didn't take as long to set up the shot this time, he hit the cue ball with such force that he not only pocketed the striped ball he was aiming at, but also potted two solids, much to Nav's delight.

"Thanks mate." She drained her beer bottle, clapped him on the shoulder, and began examining the table.

"On'y did that coz I fell sorry for you." Charge leaned against the table and took the beer Buffer offered.

Nav snorted, "Yeah, right." She concentrated fiercely, and Buffer was amused to see the tip of her tongue peek out the side of her mouth as she lined up her own shot.

He was intrigued by her, by the many different sides of her personality he had witnessed. The one he was currently experiencing was the tomboy, however the tongue thing and the earlier flirtation with ET showed that she was still very much a girl- ahem, _woman_. And while she was conservatively dressed in a simple tank top and jeans, the top was jewelled and the jeans were tight – further evidence of her girly side shining through.

He had seen the officer and the sports fanatic, and wondered how many more facets there were to this single person. He hadn't seen her interact with family and, knowing about her four older brothers, he wondered whether she would continue to be a tomboy around them, or would she play the girly girl?

ET brought over another round of shots just as she finally hit the ball. Whether it was the alcohol or the distraction of ET's return Buffer didn't know, but she sent the cue ball ricocheting around and completely missed everything on the table. She remained in place for a moment, pouting, and Buffer wondered what it would be like to kiss that rosebud mouth. A millisecond later the thought slammed into his brain and he blinked hard to rid himself of the image – he wasn't supposed to be thinking about the NO like that!

Nav looked up, saw ET had returned, and smiled at him as she moved towards their table. The corners of her mouth slowly turned upward in a sensual motion that made every man looking at her want to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. Buffer and ET both looked around, shooting glares at the leering men who had followed her movements. Charge had to put a hand on Buffer's wrist when he moved to thump a guy openly staring at Nav's behind.

Shaking his head to regain semi-coherent thought, Buffer relaxed and turned his attention to the shot in front of him. It seemed Nav liked to mix up her shots, and they had yet to try this one. He looked up at her, the question in his eyes obvious.

This time she stared straight at him when she answered, and her words caused a rush of heat through his body. "Cock-Sucking Cowboy."

"I know tha' one!" Charge exclaimed, pushing Buffer and forcing him to break eye contact with Nav. "Baileys and bu-scotchschaps…snaps… schnas…"

"Schnapps," Nav corrected, blue-green eyes dancing once again. The three men stared at her, unable to comprehend how she remained so coherent despite having consumed the same amount of alcohol they had. "You ready?" She lifted her glass up, and once again they followed suit.

Clinking the glasses together now caused more spillage than was acceptable, thus they simply raised the shot glasses and then drank. ET was the first one to finish, however he missed the table when he attempted to slam down the glass, and it was only his thigh that prevented the glass from being slaughtered on the wooden floor.

"Aha, you're out!" Buffer proclaimed, pointing at ET and then lifting his finger over his shoulder in a bad impression of a baseball umpire.

"Ahm outoo," Charge slurred, tipping his empty shot glass over.

Nav pushed the glasses together and attempted to lift all four of them at once. While she'd had no trouble doing this exact thing earlier, her co-ordination was no longer quite as good, and they clattered back to the table. One of them rolled across the table towards ET, and she lunged, catching it just before it landed on his lap. The instant she realised what she'd done her eyes flew up to meet his, and her hand stilled.

"Las round!" Buffer banged his palms on the table, and succeeded in breaking the connection between the two young sailors.

Hand back in her own lap before Buffer had finished speaking, Nav smirked when he stumbled on his way to the bar.

"How tha hell you sill conshus?" Charge asked Nav, oblivious to the blush on ET's face.

Nav noticed the red tinge to his cheeks and elbowed him. It was supposed to be a little stomach jab but she missed and got him in the ribs instead.

"Owww!" He yelped, falling off his chair.

Nav was off her own chair and helping him up before Charge's inebriated mind had processed the incident. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

The two of them were no better balanced together than apart, and had to clutch one another to prevent themselves falling over. By the time they had righted themselves and climbed back into their seats, Buffer had returned with the last two shots.

"'Quila for this last one," he said, setting the glasses down on the table.

Nav grinned, "Back to the beginning again!" Her voice was an insane mix of soft, sometimes remarkably childlike pitches wrapped in the low, husky tone of a beautiful temptress.

Buffer stared at her for a moment, the tones reverberating in his head. He vowed to never tell her that listening to her speak sometimes made him want to buy her an ice cream cone or a lollipop, and ravage her for hours, over and over again. Not necessarily in that order. He shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the images, but only succeeded in making himself dizzy, and he staggered away from the table.

Laughing at his antics, Nav reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards them.

ET and Charge watched on with interest as the two of them raised their shots and then downed them. Unlike every previous round, neither Nav nor Buffer slammed their empty glasses down, instead holding them in the air by unspoken agreement.

Nav raised an eyebrow at Buffer, the challenge evident in her eyes. It all came down to this. Whoever successfully planted their glass back on the table would win the contest and, more importantly, bragging rights aboard the Hammersley.

Brown eyes met blue-green, and they stared at one another. Nav realised that the colour of Buffer's eyes could more accurately be described as caramel…and the second the thought crossed her mind she was suddenly craving ice cream with caramel topping…

However there were things to do first and she refocused on the task at hand, the two of them simultaneously slamming down the glasses without looking. One glass hit the edge of the table, and all four pairs of eyes watched as it tipped off. Time slowed down as they watched it tumble one, twice, three times, before it shattered into a million pieces.

They stared at the pieces, which were twinkling like crystals in their drunken haze. Slowly their heads lifted back up, all eyes on the one who had dropped the glass.

_Fin._


End file.
